Canterbury What?
by Fateless Wanderer
Summary: This is my own Canterbury Tale, in the same style of Geoffrey Chaucer the original author of the Canterbury Tales


The Gypsy's Prologue   
  
The host demanded another good tale.  
  
He knew that none of the pilgrims would fail   
  
To entertain the crowd with some story.  
  
"Anyone could win and take the glory   
  
Of getting a free meal. So who wants to  
  
Tell the next tale while my maid makes us stew.  
  
Everyone looked around for someone who   
  
Would give them a story to listen to.  
  
"You there," said the host to a young woman.  
  
"Tell me why you are here? What is your plan."  
  
"Me, sir?," she asked as she walked to our host.  
  
"I'm no one, sir! Surely, I shouldn't boast."  
  
She wore a dress and a red, jeweled felt hat  
  
And around her legs, twined a small black cat.  
  
She was a gypsy; that was a sure thing.  
  
Some of the men had seen her dance and sing.  
  
When she did, the beads and jewels on her head  
  
Shimmered. The money she earned kept her fed.  
  
"I asked you a question. Now answer me?  
  
Why are you going to Canterbury?"  
  
"My aunt and uncle are taking me there.  
  
My parents entrusted me to their care."  
  
"Gypsies tell good stories, aren't I right?  
  
Tell us one that will make our spirits light."  
  
"I've really got nothing else to be done.  
  
So, all right. I'll tell one; It might be fun.  
  
And now I will tell you a tale of sorts  
  
About the daughter of a blacksmith, Borts,  
  
And an evil witch with eyes green and blue,  
  
And a young player with a magic shoe."  
  
The Gypsy's Tale  
  
Katlin left her father's forge late one night.  
  
A girl of beauty, eyes so full of light.  
  
She dressed in black from her head to her toe,  
  
Her short brown hair tied in a satin bow.  
  
To get herself home, she ran all the way,  
  
Her family was going to a play.  
  
She love to watch the players act and dance;  
  
They would spring and leap and gallop and prance  
  
As she neared her home, it began to rain.  
  
The water ran down the streets to the drain.  
  
Katlin's eye and lip paint ran down her face;  
  
She did not care, but she quickened her pace.  
  
Reaching her home, Katlin opened the door,   
  
Entered the room, water dripped on the floor.  
  
Borts spoke, "Daughter, you must except your fate:  
  
You must stay home because you are so late."  
  
And then Katlin cried, "Oh papa, please no!  
  
I'll be prompt next time, just say I can go."  
  
The man and the girl argued for a time,  
  
Slowly discussing her very small crime.  
  
And then Borts asked Katlin, "Where have you been?"  
  
"Papa, I was helping old man McKeen."  
  
And then Borts saw that Katlin was not wrong,   
  
The girl had been innocent all along.  
  
With a smile he told her to go dress;  
  
Then she realized that she was a great mess.  
  
She came back down stairs in a green silk gown.  
  
She took a wagon into the small town.  
  
She entered the theater as the street cleared;  
  
Never noticed the two eyes that appeared.  
  
One eye was blue and the other was green.  
  
The owner slipped through the darkness unseen.  
  
Amanda the witch moved slow through the dark.  
  
She walked quietly to the village park,  
  
Then looked at the magic stone on her staff;  
  
Seeing Katlin's face there, she gave a laugh.  
  
Amanda grinned and cast her evil spell;  
  
And then cute, sweet, young Katlin's body fell.  
  
Katlin's limp body rose high in the air,  
  
Seen only by player Brenna the fair.  
  
Brenna followed Katlin's body outside,  
  
And looked for a place where a witch would hide.  
  
And there in the park she spotted her prey;  
  
Amanda stood one hundred steps away.  
  
Amanda set Katlin onto the ground.  
  
The girl opened her eyes and looked around.  
  
Then the witch said, "You are my evil slave.  
  
You will be the evil soul that I crave.  
  
I will turn your loving heart into stone."  
  
Brenna stepped up and said "No you old crone."  
  
And the witch asked, "Who are you calling old?"  
  
Brenna grinned, "You. You are sprouting some mold."   
  
Amanda brushed dust away with her hand.   
  
"Oh," said Brenna as her foot scuffed the sand.  
  
"And how will you stop me? I question you."  
  
Brenna responded, "With my magic shoe."  
  
Then she held up a shoe high in her hand;  
  
The shoe was bright green with a wide red band.   
  
"Magic Christmas shoe!" The witch looked at it.  
  
"Tell me good player, does it really fit?"  
  
The player told her it was really snug,   
  
And that the shoe had squashed many a bug.  
  
Katlin sat on the ground, cute in her youth.  
  
Did the two ladies even have one tooth?  
  
Did the women even have their real hair?  
  
Would they ever remember she was there?  
  
Katlin hated always being ignored.   
  
Old women talking, she was very bored.  
  
She stood up, shouted, and called them old bats;  
  
She said that they looked like smelly old rats.  
  
Then the two ladies turned on the small lass   
  
And gave her icy looks that could freeze grass.  
  
One was twenty, One was twenty and one;  
  
Katlin knew she had just run out of fun.   
  
Katlin, a girl, who was just ten and eight,   
  
Thought of body parts sent home in a crate.   
  
She pleaded with the player and the witch;  
  
She didn't want to end up in a ditch.  
  
Amanda and Brenna smiled at her.  
  
(A squirrel ran by covered in brown fur.)  
  
A spell came from Amanda; it was blue;  
  
A green one came from Brenna's magic shoe.  
  
They both hit Katlin and her looking glass.  
  
Some bounced off, looking to hit some more mass.  
  
Spells hit the witch and the player in a flash,  
  
The smoke did not go away very fast.  
  
When the dust was gone, the trees were mere sticks.  
  
And in the park sat three girls of age six! 


End file.
